


Anything but Love

by 4vrAFangirl



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5514866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4vrAFangirl/pseuds/4vrAFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy wants desperately to prove that the older man didn't make a mistake putting his faith in him. He can still recall with perfect and haunting clarity the last things Harry said before heading off to Kentucky, as well as his own choked promise to make his error right. Eggsy can be a goddamned professional. He will be, even if it kills him. He'll sell their manufactured backstory, their feelings for each other and public displays of affection, while the pair of them pretend to be a couple for the sake of their cover, and quietly retreat to put those walls back up once they return, he'll do his best not to torture himself with reminiscing and wishing the whole thing could have been real, and hopefully that will be good enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything but Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zinfandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinfandel/gifts).



> (Title inspired by lyrics from "Distance" by: Christina Perri)
> 
> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [afangirlreadsfics](http://www.afangirlreadsfics.tumblr.com)

It isn't often that missions which require deep cover come up, and it's even less often that any such mission is assigned to a Kingsman agent who has any ties outside of the organization. But the fact remains, however perfectly suited Arthur might be for this sort of job, Harry is only a few months back from being dead- _or presumed dead at least_ \- and this will be his first time back in the field. As he is not only untested since miraculously surviving a bullet to the head, but also Kingsmen's newly appointed Arthur, sending him in without on-hand back up is out of the question. So their new Galahad is assigned to accompany and back him up. Because Merlin has to hold down the fort at HQ, and be that voice in their agent's ears when things start to go to shit on their respective missions, and Eggsy having been his protege is the most logical choice to work with Harry.

Which isn't so bad. Eggsy often wondered and imagined what working alongside Harry might be like once he was a Kingsman agent, but then he'd failed his test and Harry had died, so he'd been forced to write it off as an impossibility. Taking a mission with his mentor should be exciting, and it is, somewhere beneath an oversized helping of fear and anxiety. Because of course this couldn't simply be a cut and dried: _steal intel, try not to get caught, shoot your way out if necessary_ , sort of operation. He and Harry have to pose as a couple who've just moved into the neighborhood- for an undetermined length of time. This **must** be punishment for blowing up and breaking one too many of Merlin's toys in the field, because this mission has got to be Eggsy's own personal version of hell.

Still, Harry having been his mentor and seen potential in him well before most anybody else did, Eggsy wants desperately to prove that the older man didn't make a mistake putting his faith in him. He can still recall with perfect and haunting clarity the last things Harry said before heading off to Kentucky, as well as his own choked promise to make his error right. Eggsy can be a goddamned professional. He will be, even if it kills him. He'll sell their manufactured backstory, their feelings for each other and public displays of affection, and quietly retreat to put those walls back up once they return, he'll do his best not to torture himself with reminiscing and wishing the whole thing could have been real, and hopefully that will be good enough.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Eggsy might have known getting Harry out of his head once the mission was over would be easier said than done though, especially after spending nearly three months in such close quarters. He'd been a wreck when he had thought his mentor was dead, and he had only begun to scratch the surface of the man that was Harry Hart then. Now? Now he has so many more pieces of the puzzle, so many more things appreciate about him:

Eggsy always suspected, but is now assured that Harry Hart is something of a shit (the man had simply loved subtly antagonizing one of their less accepting neighbors, taking care to be extra affectionate with his young partner whenever Garrett was around). Eggsy now knows Harry's hair is actually curly post-shower or a good night's sleep, and that he works quite hard to tame it before leaving the house. He knows how Harry likes his coffee (black, two sugars) and his tea (with just a splash of milk). Knows his favorite kind of take-out now (Chinese). He's learned Harry not only knows how, but enjoys cooking, though he hasn't indulged the impulse for some time (Harry finds it silly and a little bit depressing to do so simply for himself), but he's a miserable baker and burns everything he attempts to make (because try as he might Harry always forgets to watch the clock or set a timer).

The hardest part about re-adjusting to life after their mission is over, though, isn't in the little bits of trivia he's picked up along the way. It's the sort of emptiness he feels, the vast void in the space just beside him. Eggsy is visiting with Daisy and his mother for the first time in months, cooking a meal for all of them when he first notices it. He knows logically their kitchen is no bigger than it was before he left, but it feels endless, and far too empty without Harry just beside him. And suddenly he understands why the other man so rarely cooks for himself. _Was there ever anyone he cooked with before_ , he wonders, curious and a tiny bit, completely irrationally, jealous at the thought.

A little while later Eggsy finds himself waiting for a moment in the middle of his meal preparations before he realizes Harry isn't there to intuitively know, and seamlessly pass him what he will need next.

The following morning he pours two cups of coffee, before he notices what he's done. He winds up drinking what he'd thoughtlessly prepared to be Harry's, and gives his mother his own. More than once while walking JB, Eggsy turns to his right to point something out or share an amusing observation with Harry, only to remember that he's walking with his memory, a kind of a ghost, and nothing more. Harry has returned to his house near the shop, to his position as Arthur, to a man who sees potential in Eggsy, but never in the way the younger man has long since come to hope for.

Dean moved in when Eggsy was eight: all charm and smiles while he'd been wooing his mum, and the young boy had dared to believe with all the markings of a decent father-figure. Within a year his mum had a new surname, and they both were starting to sport all sorts of new bruises; the romance was over. So Eggsy has done his level-best ever since to rid himself of any notions of romance, and more importantly he's done his best to insure he doesn't need anyone else. A task he feels he's been on the whole, mostly successful in.

Because the fact of the matter is, Eggsy doesn't actually need Harry Hart. He can cook on his own, and walk his own dog... He can sit in the living area to read and appreciate a good book without having to share it or the sofa with someone else, enjoy half-watching a movie or crap telly over take-out... He can go back to the bachelor life he's carved out for himself, and go it alone, afterall he has done just fine that way before. No, he doesn't need Harry. _But he certainly wants him. **Badly**_. More than he's allowed himself to want anything in a very long time.

And it's only going to end in tears, just as Eggsy has always known it would, because they're back to Arthur and Galahad now. Friendly, certainly, but with so much more distance and formality between them. The life and lie they shared together during their mission begins to feel like a kind of other world, an alternate universe or improbable- no, an impossible timeline in which the two of them might have shared something more. But this one: sitting at the long table with a bunch of holograms while the older man goes over various mission successes and failures in recent weeks, isn't the sort where Eggsy might take Harry's hand in his, or allow his leg to press against the older man's simply to touch him again. There won't be any hugs, or kisses anymore. And God it's pathetic just how touch-starved he's become now he's known a life with physical affection, however briefly and pretend it may have been.

This isn't a world where Harry needs his help anymore, or even needs him, and that knowledge leaves Eggsy feeling utterly lost, second-guessing his nearly every action where the older man is concerned, and stopping himself midway through helping or familiar gestures to weigh whether or not they are somehow too much now.

For one terrifying month after waking up Harry had been completely without sight and suffered uncontrollable muscle tremors, and Eggsy suspects he still silently suffers through debilitating migraines his injury caused him, but simply doesn't want to report them to medical. Harry hadn't wanted his, or anyone's help at first; didn't really want anyone to see him like that, but Eggsy annoyed him less than most of the medical staff, and they would have been hard-pressed to keep him from his mentor whenever he wasn't away on a mission now the man was miraculously back from the dead. Helping Harry, touching Harry then had been admittedly nearly entirely one-sided then, but every bit as precious to the young man as his memories of their put-on affection for their mission, as each had been a small reassurance the other man was truly alive.

The fact of the matter remains, however, that those touches that Eggsy cherishes, and longs to have again were never Harry's choice. Their time with one another in medical had been a necessity as much as their mission. Harry doesn't need him, and now they're done acting for the sake of their cover: Eggsy can't pretend Harry wants him either.

Not stooping down to help the older man pick up the papers he'd accidentally made him drop by running into him would be rude. But their hands brush reaching for the same paper like some kind of cliché romance movie, and rather than race, Eggsy's heart plummets. _He can't do this._ He has to go- Somewhere. Anywhere. As far away from Harry Hart as he possibly can until he can sort this mess out in his head, and his traitorous fucking heart. Because Harry is the sort of bloke who could have anyone he wanted, and there's not a snowball's chance in hell that he could want Eggsy. The older man has taught him how to dress, carry himself, how to fight, Eggsy's even picked up how to talk proper, but Harry knows what he was before all that; the chav what's underneath it all, and there isn't any way Eggsy can possibly be what Harry would want, not without both of them knowing it's simply a well-maintained facade. Not to mention being so close to Harry like this, and not being able to share the kind of closeness they had before now that their mission is over, is driving him mad. Eggsy begins avoiding the other man wherever possible, and puts in a request for the next long and distance op that comes up, with the excuse of ' _wanting to see more of the world_ '.

The request finds it's way to Arthur's desk the following morning. It's a simple enough, and more than reasonable request from the young agent. So there's really no reason for Harry to spend so long staring at the form, and trying to think of some reason to reject it, except that he's being a selfish bastard. He doesn't want to send Eggsy half a world away. Harry is having a hard enough time getting used to the echoing silence and emptiness of being back in his own home again, rather than the one he and Eggsy shared for three months, without sending the boy to a whole other continent.

It wasn't real, of course. _Harry knew that, had always known that._ Just as he had always known the young man's gratitude for bailing him out it jail and offering him a chance at a new life didn't mean Eggsy would or could ever feel anything else for him. Just because Harry was stupid enough to fall arse over tits for the boy... And why should he? Eggsy was in the prime of his life. Young, smart, funny, fit... And Harry? Well, he wasn't dumb, or so out of shape as to be unable to keep up on those rare occasions he might be needed in the field, but he certainly wasn't young- nor, he thought glancing sideways at the scar across his temple peeking out beneath his hair with a frown, as beautiful and unmarred as Eggsy was. Falling for the young man only made sense, but Eggsy falling for _him_ was a pipe dream.

The boy was a fantastic actor though, Harry has to give him that. There were moments when the two of them had been playing house, where even he had almost believed the story they were trying to sell. Little sideways glances, or lingering touches that did such a thorough job of conveying affection, Harry is all but certain Eggsy fancies someone, and must simply have been imagining them in Harry's place, because nice as it would be to believe, Eggsy will never feel that way about him.

But perhaps sending him away would be for the best, maybe a little space was what they both need. Harry has clearly been making his young protege uncomfortable since they have returned from their undercover assignment. Not that it's ever been his intention of course. Eggsy is more than capable of taking care if himself, Harry knows, but the older man can't seem to help himself- three months is apparently all it takes to make all the little gestures and shows of care and affection to become habit. Harry can't stop himself reaching out for Eggsy- awkwardly stopping himself only just short of adjusting the other's tie or glasses when they are askew, or stepping up behind and crowding his space to get something on a shelf just a little too high for him... stuffing slightly clenched fists into his pockets as subtly as he can manage.

So he approves the request, and because whatever higher power that saved him from almost certain death is evidently done with granting Harry Hart additional favors Eggsy is sent on a honeypot mission. Unfortunately watching someone else share the kind of proximity and intimacy with the young man that Harry has been pathetically pining for for the last few months is **not** giving him the sort of distance he may have hoped for when he signed off on that form.

Not that Harry has to watch, exactly. Merlin and his assistants have handling even their newest agents perfectly in hand. Arthur has yet to observed their new Galahad on a solo mission before though, and he will be subject to the same sort of review and critique as his fellow knights soon enough, _or so Harry tells himself_. He stops watching the feed after Eggsy successfully charms his way into an invite and is headed back to his mark's hotel room, he isn't that much of a glutton for punishment. It's empty, probably-the sex- or not terribly meaningful anyway. Not that every agent doesn't at less try to have a little fun with a honeypot assignment, but it is just that: an assignment, just a game of pretend, like their mission together was.

Eggsy's barely home a week, visits briefly with his little sister and mother while he's on his mandatory leave, before he's picking up another mission in Prague. He isn't required to sleep with anyone this time, but it's clear he's doing all he can to put as many miles between himself and Harry as he possible can, and Harry's heart aches for it, for at the very least the kind of friendly banter and comradery they shared when he was a recruit. Harry can't be sure sliding that far back with Eggsy would be enough anymore, but if that is all the two of them are meant to share, all that he's allowed to have, he's determined to make it so. He'll speak to Eggsy about it when he returns, try to fix this chasm that's formed between them, and do whatever it takes to make the boy comfortable, to have Eggsy trust him again.

But Eggsy doesn't come back after finishing his mission, Lancelot's cover has been compromised; she needs an extraction and he's the nearest agent to her location to do it. Not that Harry expects Eggsy would have listened and not tried to help Roxy even if that weren't the case. If there is one thing Eggsy has proven, time and time again, it's that he is unflinchingly loyal, and will do anything to protect those he loves and cares for; including taking several throwing knives to various parts of his person that were intended for his friend and fellow agent.

"Your turn to look aft'r me now, is it," Eggsy coughs, throat feeling incredibly dry, eyes squinting a bit under the harsh lights of Kingsmen's infirmary at HQ as he stares up into the face of the older man. Harry's mouth is a thin, unamused line, but he eventually nods, quickly pouring a much needed glass of water and offering the straw to Eggsy.

"Got blood all over my suit, 'Arry," the young man offers up once he's had his fill of water, with a sorrowful expression.

"That tends to happen when you throw yourself in front of half a dozen knives," the older man replies softly.

"-Liked that suit," Eggsy mumbles, whatever medication dripping in his IV for the pain, making him slur his words a little as he shakes his head. "Ain't gonna be able to dry clean _that_ mess up."

"We'll get you a new one," Harry assures him softly.

"Won't be the same though, will it? Never was after tha'... Too bleedin' thick to realize it was a fuckin' blank," Eggsy continues berating himself softly, staring down at his hands where they lie tangled nervously together in his lap.

Harry looks up, a little surprised at the young man's muttered comment. _The dog test was water under the bridge by now, wasn't it?_ "That doesn't matter any more, Eggsy," Harry replies shaking his head. "You're a knight now just like the rest of us, and as good as any of them." Eggsy snorts in disbelief, then winces, one hand gently coming up to cover one of the bandaged stitches on his abdomen. And it's not the first time Harry has seen the young man's bare chest before, but it is the first time he's really been able to examine and appreciate it, and it will never be the same. Eggsy will carry the scars hidden beneath his bandages for the rest of his life, and it's his fault.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispers softly.

"What for," Eggsy asks dazedly as exhaustion and the painkillers slowly pull him back into the arms of sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

"We gotta stop meetin' like this," Eggsy smiles softly at the older man who's fallen asleep in a chair pulled up beside his bed, when he stirs again some time later. They must have backed off on the painkillers a bit because his head is noticeably less fuzzy, but he notes they've put a small remote by his hand just in case. "That can't be good for your back Bruv," Eggsy whispers softly, shaking his head before cautiously leaning over to take and squeeze Harry's hand where it rests on the edge of bed in an attempt to rouse him. " 'Arry," Eggsy tries gently.

"Eggsy," Harry gasps, sitting bolt upright, immediately looking around worried, until he spots the young man sitting up in the bed.

"Easy, I'm okay," the younger man assured him, quickly, taking his hand in his again before he can really think about it.

"No, your an idiot," Roxy assesses, _and Jesus she's good, or maybe his skills slipping up a bit during his hospital stay because Eggsy hadn't even heard or notice her enter._ Though based on the way the older man suddenly squeezes his hand, Eggsy is pretty sure Harry didn't either. Harry seems to realize that he's holding tight to Eggsy's hand, and suddenly, as naturally as he can make the gesture seem, lets it drop. Eggsy does his best not to show any signs of disappointment, but he's pretty sure Roxy knows while she's watching the pair of them, scowling disapprovingly at him. Roxy always seems to know.

"Nice to see you too Rox," Eggsy mutters looking ever so slightly sheepish under her 1000 yard stare.

"Were you even going to tell me," she demands, hands coming to rest on her hips. _Fuck, but he's in trouble now._

"Tell you what?"

"You know perfectly well what," she replies tersely. "The transfer you tried to put in for. Or did you think the rest of us wouldn't notice if we suddenly never saw you around the shop or headquarters anymore? What about your mother and Daisy?"

"Transfer," Harry repeats confused, looking back and forth between the two younger agents.

" 'Ow do you know about that? Did Merlin-"

"You know he isn't allowed to disclose personal requests from other agents to me, or anyone else," Roxy replied shaking her head. "Regardless of any personal relationship we might have with one another," she adds pointedly with a stern look, when Eggsy opens his mouth on the verge of saying something contradictory. "You work in a secret intelligence agency with some of the best spies in the world, someone was bound to find out sooner or later you were trying to jump ship."

"It wasn't approved yet, or anythin'," Eggsy replies with a small shrug, avoiding both of his visitor's eyes.

"And it never would have been," Merlin replies tersely from the doorway. Eggsy's room is becoming the place to be it seems. "You had to know that sending one of our Kingsman agents to work out of any of our other headquarters would have to be approved by Arthur, and _that_ was never going to happen."

"You two have been awkward and avoiding one another ever since you got back from your undercover mission together. You are both intelligent, rational, and capable adults, so start acting like it. We're still rebuilding after V-day, and too small in numbers to have agents that can hardly look at, let alone work with one another. Eggsy, I don't care when you get cleared for active field duty again," Merlin continues rounding on the younger man. "I'm not going to accept any more transfer requests from you, and you aren't getting another away mission until the two of stubborn idiots stop being so dramatic, and talk and work whatever this is out. I'll let Roxy here, lock you both in the nearest maintenance closet if I have to." Eggsy almost laughs at the idea, but one look at his best mate's face is enough to tell him she'd actually do it. Eggsy swallows, glances sideways at Harry, then finally nods.

"Good. Now it seems all of us have work to do," Merlin concludes, holding the door for Roxy, before following after and leaving the two men alone.

"Uh," Eggsy tries awkwardly, not entirely sure where exactly to begin, or how much he has the courage to actually say, now he has the opportunity, or rather now they've been given an ultimatum.

"Eggsy, I'm sorry," Harry interjects before the younger man has a chance to articulate anything. "It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable. I had hoped that we might be able to talk when you returned from your last mission, but..."

"But I got myself landed in medical, helpin' Rox," Eggsy supplies helpfully. Harry nods.

"I knew we hadn't been talking or spending time together the way we used to, but you must believe I had every hope of mending that. I suspected with the missions you might have been trying to put a little space between us, but I had no idea you were looking into transfers. You have family, friends here. If you really cannot stand the idea of working with, or at the very least- so close to me, I should be the one looking for work at one of our other facilities."

"Are you mad," Eggsy blurts out, astonished. "You're our Arthur, bruv. You can't just pack up and leave because we're rufflin' each other's feathers."

"I would find a suitable replacement first," Harry replies matter-a-fact, as if this is the only reason why his suggestion is barking.

"Do you wanna go?"

"I do if staying here is hurting you," Harry says softly, looking down to his own hands for a moment.

"That ain't no answer."

"Why do _you_ want to go," the older man asks, turning the question back on to Eggsy.

"Because you look bloody well fit and fuckin' gorgeous in your suits, but I wanna see you in t-shirts and sleep pants with your hair all mussed again," Eggsy confesses in one breath, quick to get it out before he can lose his nerve or think too much about what it is he's saying. Nothing will be the same after this, but then again, nothing really stays the same, Merlin's right he and Harry haven't been right for some time now, and maybe this won't fix anything, but at least he'll have gotten it off his chest. Harry's eyes are wide, but his expression isn't yet one that Eggsy recognizes or can entirely read, so he continues. "I want- I want what we had when we was pretendin' to be together," Eggsy says, drawing another breath to steady himself, slowly bringing sea-green eyes up to meet the dark brown depths that are staring back at him. "But I want it to be real."

"Goin' back to just being another one of your agents," Eggsy shakes his head. "I don't think I can do it. I'm a shit spy, Harry. You were right, I want to do some good, an' I think I can with Kingsman, but not here. Not, if it means I have to keep pretendin' it isn't eatin' me up seeing you, and not bein' able to be with you, to..." Harry's gaping now, but manages to pull himself together, because this is too important to fuck up.

"You're right, you really are a terrible spy," the older man replies, shutting the other up immediately. Okay, well, maybe too important to _completely_ fuck up. "Eggsy, my boy," Harry laughs softly, shaking his head in disbelief at it all. "I thought that you were uncomfortable around me after our Op because you'd realized just how much I wanted to share even a fraction of those things we did together with you when we aren't on a mission."

"Wha-" Eggsy manages, mouth opening and closing without actually managing to produce any audible words or sounds. "But..."

"I never doubted that you would be able to sell our being together, or our body language as a couple for our cover. I only hoped for another excuse to be able to touch you, to show you how much I care for you-even if you only thought it was pretend- in case it was the first and only time I ever had. Eggsy, I'm so much older than you, you deserve..."

"I deserve to be happy. An' so do you. You make me happy, Harry Hart. I want you," Eggsy interrupts shaking his head, before Harry can even get started with all of the reasons why he's never believed they could be possible, all the excuses that might be made for the two of them not being together. "I don't care that you're older, or none 'a that," the young man says firmly. "An' I ain't bothered by this neither," he adds a bit softer, reaching up to allow his hand to gently cup Harry's face, before gently caressing the raised line where the bullet that nearly took Harry from him left its mark.

"Eggsy, I..." Harry begins, one of his own hands reaching up to cover Eggsy's where it rests at his temple. The older man wants to pull the hand away, Eggsy shouldn't want to touch something so ugly, shouldn't want someone so much older, who's taken so much from him nothing he does will ever be enough to repay it, but the younger man isn't having it.

"I ain't gonna change my mind, 'Arry," Eggsy smiles. "No matter what you say, and there ain't nothin' you can say I ain't already thought about. I don't care. I didn't know how gone I was until I thought I'd lost you. You give me a chance, an' I ain't never lettin' you go again."

"Eggsy-"

"Yes, Harry," Eggsy replies, raising an eyebrow, silently challenging whatever remaining reservations the older man might have, and be about to bring up. Harry laughs, shaking his head, although it's clear he's through with trying to fight the young man anymore, and Eggsy thinks he would like nothing better than to be the reason the older man smiles or laughs like this for the rest of their lives, _although they should probably start with a proper date or two first._ His mum will probably need some time to come around to the idea, but he isn't the least bit worried about it right now, because Harry is scooting his chair closer to the bed, and taking his hand in his own again, and that feels more right than anything has these last few weeks. Eggsy's smile is blinding, and Harry's eyes shine, his crow's feet proof enough of the sincerity of the older man's own happiness.

"Harry," Eggsy hedges finally, a mischievous glint in his eyes, that Harry has come to recognize well before now as spelling trouble for him.

"Yes, darling," Harry prompts patiently, his thumb gently caressing the top of Eggsy's warm hand where it rests in his, not missing the small upturned quirk of Eggsy's mouth hinting at another smile, or the slight twinge of pink that appears at the boy's ears and on his cheeks at the term of endearment.

"Would it be terribly ungentlemanly if you were to kiss me before we actually went on a date together," Eggsy asks, looking hopeful.

"Would you care if it was," Harry returns in an amused tone, though he's already leaning forward, quite certain of the answer. Eggsy pretends to consider this for a moment.

"Nah, not really," Eggsy smirks cheekily.

"Good," Harry replies, before his lips descend upon Eggsy's, beginning slowly, not tentative, but appreciative, the older man exploring and worshiping those lips he thought he might never have again. And then he's definitely given up any hopes of being a gentleman, as Eggsy begins to take a little more control of the kiss, licking at Harry's lips, his tongue begging for entrance, which he grants him almost instantly. Hands are moving to cup one another's cheeks, to hold to one another and keep each other near, fingers running through, messing and tangling in their hair as the kiss becomes deeper, but no faster- they have all the time in the world now. And it's not the first time that they've kissed one another of course, but neither of them is holding back or hiding anything this time, so Eggsy can't help but think that this is better, even if they are being careful of his injuries, and there's that distinctly sterile smell of the medical wing about them, while he gingerly scoots and arranges himself to one side of the bed so Harry can climb up and lay beside him- the older man still pressing soft kisses to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his neck... Eggsy takes Harry's hand once more, bringing it up to his lips to kiss in return, before laying and pressing the hand flat over an uninjured part of his chest where the older man will be able to feel his heart beating.

Eggsy is still tired, his eyes growing heavy, even as he smiles up at him where he's lying beside him, his body protectively and affectionately curled around him, but Harry knows the last time he had any pain medication. Nobody could argue that the boy isn't lucid, and Harry isn't about to second-guess Eggsy or his ability to decide for himself what he wants, especially when against all odds, what Eggsy wants is him. " _Sleep_ ," Harry encourages. Eggsy seems reluctant to close his eyes, perhaps afraid of missing something, or maybe waking to find Harry's gone, or that he's dreamed all of it, so Harry keeps talking; low and soft tones against the shell of the young man's ear, about all of the places he wants to take Eggsy, the things they might do together on their dates, flowers, restaurants, movies, plays, concerts, nights in together, anything and everything that Harry can think of.

"Luv' you, 'Arry," Eggsy exhales softly with a sigh, finally allowing his eyes to shut, and himself to drift back to sleep.

"And I, you, my darling," Harry whispers in answer, more than contented to hold and watch over his lover while he rests. "And I, you."


End file.
